(SPOILER ALERT! This story takes place directly after the ending of Portal 2.)
(Author's Notes: This is the first actual chapter to my Chell/android!Wheatley fanfic. I am EXTREMELY sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Please enjoy the story thus far!)
Portal and Portal 2's characters and locations © Valve
The glittering dust in the sky above went on for miles since there were no manmade lights to disturb it. They were the dancers flickering in and out of the stage that was lit up by the moon's soft glow. Suddenly the stars disappeared and an unnatural sun came up.
"Why are you sitting in the dark?" Dr. Anders stood at the doorway with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow arched. Tucked into one hand she held some papers. She looked studious as usual, wearing her brown locks in a neat bun and her lab coat spotless.
Chell squinted in the sudden flood of light. She rubbed at her eyes from where she sat in a chair pulled up to her hospital room window. A notebook and pencil rolled out of her lap as she unfolded her legs from her chest.
"Drawing again? Sorry I couldn't get you anything more than paper and a pencil and not one of those fancy floating computers," the doctor said, sweeping over to where Chell was seated and then over to where the medical machinery beeped.
It has been two days since Chell awoke in the hospital, but she was already anxious to get out, obvious from her yearning gaze towards the stars and the roads below them. Anders had answered the questions she had asked regarding dates and locations. It had been nearly a century since Chell last touched grass. The date was July 27th, 2098. She was still in Michigan, in some hospital in some unimportant town.
Anders's patient was slightly disgruntled as she leaned out of her chair to collect her belongings. Chell's hair was a disheveled, bed-head ponytail. She had changed into another hospital gown, this time purple with a floral design.
Not caring her doctor could clearly see her paper Chell resumed doodling. The lined paper contained lead caricatures of Aperture's residents. Her drawing style resembled the drawings from the Ratman dens she had discovered.
In the corner a turret whispered, "I'm different". GLaDOS's oversized head and some of her body took over the right half of the page. Multiple pictures of cake were scattered about the page. She had also drawn many of the personality cores, and even included the Space Core, where, of course, it was screaming, "SPACE!"
There was a notable absence among the collection of cores where there was an open space in the middle of them. It was as if she had wanted to draw another core, but then thought twice about it, and abandoned the idea.
The doctor didn't seem to mind Chell's odd drawings. Instead she adjusted knobs and wrote down numbers that she took from the machines' readings. She put the paperwork on the portable table beside Chell's bed.
"Your test results came back. Your brain's perfectly fine, Ms. Chell. No 'minor serious case of brain damage', as you said." Anders tried and failed to hide an entertained smile. Chell almost appeared a little disappointed, but she kept drawing.
Her doctor had told her to fill out a report to give to the local police, and in the "Damage" section, Chell had listed herself as having a "minor serious case of brain damage". Dr. Anders flashed a confused expression at Chell the first time she saw the papers, but her patient seemed to be completely confident in her answers.
Anders also put Chell through a couple of mandatory tests to make sure her body was functioning normally. Luckily Chell is perfectly healthy, despite all of her past endeavors with little medical attention.
"I'm going to admit being a bit doubtful when you said you were held in a stasis pod for over a few months," Dr. Anders remained messing around with the medicinal tools, "but you show obvious signs of being in one for many years. Your aging has been stunted significantly. Maybe even reversed by a few years. How that's even possible…" she faded off, mystified over Chell's unique situation. She hurriedly continued with her report.
"The results also say you're perfectly capable of speaking," the doctor briefly looked back at Chell, a hint of suspicion on her face, "so that confirms my thoughts of you being selectively mute."
Chell silently sighed, slapping her notebook to a close. She heaved herself out of the rickety chair and trudged over to her bed. Pulling back the stiff covers, she slid herself back into her uncomfortable prison. She took a glance under the bed to check if her old jumpsuit and boots were still there.
The Companion Cube filled most of the space on the bed, but Chell didn't mind. She believed that if the Cube were let go one more time, she'd never see it again. She had explained the Cube's story to Dr. Anders who found it curious she was so attached to the inanimate object. Chell expected that most people would react that way, but that wasn't going to affect her love for the Cube.
With the Cube wedged between her thigh and the edge of the bed, she relaxed into a position as comfortable as she could get. The bed made her feel itchy and the bandages around her arms and head were irritating her wounds more than protecting them. At least, that's what it felt like. Being confined to this one room while the whole world awaited her was extremely frustrating.
Anders walked around the hospital bed and to where the IV bag hung on a hook. Chell immediately turned to her and gave her an "I don't think so" look. Her doctor quickly caught on and backed off the IV. Chell was satisfied with the results of her intimidation and settled in bed again. Her effortless manipulation reminded her of GLaDOS, not that this resemblance pleased her.
"Since you're feeling well, the police asked for you to come by their station tomorrow to review what happened to you. They're concerned about you being involved with that 'Aperture' business," the doctor said as she shrunk away from her patient.
Chell had noticed that Anders didn't know what Aperture Laboratories was. Back in the day, the last time Chell was out and about the surface, Aperture was relatively well known. She couldn't comprehend that the company had fallen out of favor for other more modern groups' forms of science. For the time being, she chose to believe that Dr. Anders was simply clueless when it came to science and robotics.
Absorbed in thoughts of Aperture's former glory and how much she disliked all of the unfamiliar contraptions in the hospital, Chell tuned out Dr. Anders. Chell stared up at the ceiling from where she lay as the doctor's lips moved wordlessly. Anders left at last, dimming the lights and closing the door behind her. Some time later, Chell's eyes finally shut and she fell asleep with the Companion Cube and she tucked into the sheets.
The Next Afternoon
Appearing nervous, Chell sat in a pleather chair in borrowed street clothes. Anders had fussed over her, insisting that she can't go in public with her ratty testing uniform. Chell was only irked by her behavior. What was wrong with her precious suit? It was a perfectly fine garment to her. Anders had also banned her from carrying around the Companion Cube. She hadn't stopped worrying about the Cube, now that it was all by itself again. Chell was a bit relieved when the doctor had left her with fresh company to go speak with the Chief of Police.
Across a coffee table from Chell, two uniformed state police officers were standing behind two identical chairs, one male the other female. Their names, at least their last names, were Mr. Tiller and Ms. Morrison. They were discussing something with each other, and Officer Tiller held a touchscreen tablet in between them, its display on what looked to be an official-like document. Their conversation was hushed, as if they were keeping their words from the agitated Chell. They had already interviewed her for a straight hour and a half and she was getting antsy.
As she waited for the two officials to stop their chattering, Chell took in her surroundings. The police station was sparkling new compared to the dumpster of a hospital she was in, at least to society's new standards. Shiny white walls were about to blind her and spotless carpets lay under her feet. The latest in computer technology were stationed at every worker's desk and the finest televisions provided local news and directed visitors with a map if they were lost. On the drive to the station from a small town to the city of Marquette, Chell observed the beautiful architecture of the station. Every building in the city had futuristic designs, from wavy metal patterns to intriguing sculptures. She had been to Marquette before and recalled nothing spectacular, unlike what she was seeing now.
Officer Morrison at last returned her attention to Chell while Tiller gave the tablet to his partner and walked away towards a section of cubicles and smaller rooms at the far side of large ground floor.
"You wouldn't mind me asking more questions about your experience, would you?" Morrison relaxed in one of the seats, the handheld in her hands. She was middle-aged and looked intimidating. A permanent, small frown lay on her lips and downturned eyebrows only reinforced Chell's first impression of the officer.
Chell slowly nodded with uncertainty. She leaned forward to take her own tablet from the table, one that the officers were temporarily lending her in order to communicate. The police officer soon began her questioning again.
"What happened to the other humans that were with you?" Morrison placed her tablet in the middle of the coffee table, using its protective case as a stand. It was recording both interviewer and interviewee at the same time.
Chell briskly took to her computer, unknowingly misusing a drawing application for writing her responses. Her handwriting was worse on the tablet than with paper and pen.
"They died within a few months of the first day we were trapped," she wrote, "maybe more than a few months; a year even, there were no clocks where we were." She turned the tablet and showed the sloppy scribbles to Morrison.
"How did they die?" Officer Morrison initially seemed hesitant to ask the question. Chell was visibly dismal upon writing about this subject, but she continued anyway. The human company she had at the beginning was long gone. She never realized how lonely she was until now.
"GLaDOS's neurotoxin or the turrets got to them."
"Who is GLaDOS, exactly?"
Chell was instantly dumbfounded. How could Morrison not know who GLaDOS was? The murderous robot had been the tyrant of Chell's world since childhood, so she expected that everyone knew who she was.
Hurriedly she deleted her past text to make space and wrote, "the robot in charge of the Enrichment Center. She watched over experiment testing."
"And GLaDOS was the one who released you three days ago?"
Chell nodded again, writing and then showing Officer Morrison, "yes, she said we're friends now because we helped each other. She said she was tired of trying to kill me so she let me out."
Morrison was momentarily speechless and trying to understand Chell's complex story, but the woman kept scratching away at the tablet, "I'm not really sure if she meant the friend part, but she really likes testing. And being in control."
Morrison was at a loss for words when Tiller came back. Even though the man was trying to whisper, Chell caught every word he spoke.
"I haven't said a word since the day my dad died in a test course," she wrote, "it's nothing personal."
Tiller had mentioned that Chell refused to tell Anders why she wouldn't speak. The officers blinked at her answer before carrying on with their personal conversation.
"The chief wants us to go back to where she was found. He's bringing in the FBI to do a full investigation. This place still existing is a big hazard."
An indifferent expression became pure horror. Chell was in total disbelief. After everything she told them, they want to infiltrate the place? Where so many humans had died? She figured GLaDOS would find a way to get to the surface specifically to hunt her down if meddling outsiders intruded with her help.
Her script became even less legible in her hurry to write, "You can't! She'll kill you! Or make you test! Don't do it!"
She waved the tablet around to get the attention of her interviewers. They narrowed their eyes while struggling to get past Chell's chicken scratch. Morrison decoded the message first and seemed truly sympathetic.
"We know you've been through so much, Michelle. Nothing from that place can hurt you now, and they won't hurt us either."
Chell put the tablet back towards herself, unsure of what to write next. Tiller directed his words at Chell.
"Are you sure you don't have any idea of living relatives you might have? I know it's been a long time since you were last here, but maybe you have a brother or sister with children now? An aunt or uncle you can think of?"
Again, Chell thought through the possibilities of having family still. Obviously her father died after the tragic "Bring Your Daughter" day. It was possible her mother remarried after her husband and only child were apparently killed. She had no siblings, and the only aunt she recalled was batty and refused to get married or have children. So her chance of family depended on her mother. She wasn't even sure if her "mother" and "father" were even her real parents after GLaDOS's many discouraging comments.
"My mom could've moved on, but I don't know, I've already told you this," she scrawled and then presented to the partners. Tiller grimly nodded,
"We're tracking her family line right now, we'll see if we can contact anyone soon."
The male officer nodded to his interviewee and took the stroll back towards the cubicles. Morrison fiddled with her tablet while its cameras still rolled. Chell wasn't quite done yet.
"If you're going to go back to Aperture, you should take me. I know the place best," she pleaded, writing in red to prove her point.
Morrison struggled for the right words, "Are you sure you want to go back there? Having you there would be helpful, but not necessary."
Chell vigorously nodded. A plan was hatching in her head, a plan that would keep the police away from Aperture.
"I want to come. When are you going?"
"As soon as the FBI get here, we're leaving to where your doctor said you were found," Morrison put her tablet down again, "but we'll need your doctor's approval."
Anders posed as a small threat to Chell's formulating plan, so she wasn't too worried about her interference. The doctor did say she would be released from the hospital today anyways.
Morrison sent a "ping" message to Tiller using her tablet. Almost immediately she got a reply. Sighing, she returned to Chell.
"We've located the children from your mother's second marriage. They're still alive and they have children, who have children, who have children, who have children," Morrison looked entertained as she read off Tiller's message, "we've asked your half-siblings to come here. They should be here shortly, they're locals," the female cop got up, leaving her tablet behind, "I'll be right back with them." She brushed past Chell's chair towards the entrance of the station.
She wasn't adopted after all. Tiller would've mentioned the adoption if it had happened.
Chell hadn't realized that if her mother had more children that they'd be her half-siblings. She'd always been an only child, so this would be a definite change. She wasn't sure if they even had a clue of her existence or if they would be accepting of said existence.
Shutting the tablet's portfolio case closed, she stood up and turned around. Morrison was already coming back with an elderly man and woman trailing behind her.
The duo had quickly set their gaze on Chell. They followed her uneasy movements with amazed eyes. The two were around the eighties age range, but their general appearance and air was that of someone in their late sixties. They hadn't pure white hair but faded black and graying at the roots. As a first impression, they seemed friendly and like family-oriented people.
Chell stood her ground as they stopped in front of her. She swiftly caught a motherly feeling off of the woman.
"Michelle, these are your half-siblings. Sarah and Andrew Thomas." Morrison stepped aside to leave so it was just the three of them confronting each other.
Chell shifted looking between each of them in the eyes. She hid her mixed emotions under a nonchalant façade. All of them took at each other's images. Then finally Sarah broke the silence.
"Wonderful to meet you at last, Chell. Mom told us a lot about you."
That Night
Sarah and Andrew had followed a police car containing Chell, Tiller, and Morrison to get to the shack's field. They insisted in tagging along to ensure they could take Chell directly to her new home afterwards. She was taken aback at how fast they had decided she would live with Sarah and her husband, Allen Climer.
Chell had gone through her "rescue" plan over and over in her head to make sure she wouldn't forget it. Actually, it wasn't much of a plan, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.
She tightly clutched the Companion Cube to her stomach. Dr. Anders gave her the few belongings she had before discharging her from the hospital. Officially, she was free at last, but not until this ordeal was dealt with.
The car jiggled over the dirt pathway that separated weedy fields from dead, fire burnt fields. They were completely surrounded by grass; it would obviously take the police much too long to locate Aperture's entrance without her help.
FBI and state police gathered in the general area the Good Samaritan picked up Chell. Tiller parked the car behind a fellow officer's cruiser. Andrew pulled up beside an unmarked FBI van. Morrison went around to the backseats and courteously opened the door for Chell. She nodded in thanks, getting out and setting the Cube in her seat. Tiller assured that it would be safe there. The two officers began to lead her over to where the group of authorities gathered. Sarah and Andrew walked behind them.
Since the two officers squished her in between them, she gradually slowed the pace she moved at until she was trekking beside Sarah. The women had gotten to know each other, but it was really only Chell getting to know Sarah.
Apparently their mother had told her new family many stories about her late husband and daughter. Their mother died thirty-three years ago at the ripe age of ninety-two. Andrew was more cautious when speaking to his presumed dead half-sister.
Both were initially confused when they encountered Chell, as they expected a woman who appeared much older than she does. Most of the confusion was cleared when Chell told her tale again via tablet.
Now Chell carried her notebook and pencil in a bag that Andrew bought for her at a Stop-n-Go Mart. Dr. Anders gave her the utensils as a gift and also for her to be able to communicate without the use of wild gestures.
Currently she had fallen behind even her siblings and she came to a stop at the edge of a golden field. She faintly remembered this spot, as she had tripped over a protruding rock before tumbling down and blacking out, the Companion Cube flying into the middle of the dirt road. The man who took her to the hospital probably wouldn't have found her if he hadn't run over the poor Cube with his car. There are reasons behind her babying of the Cube, believe it or not.
At first, recalling the path she walked directly after being released didn't come right away. She strode past the rock she had stumbled over earlier and stepped onto the crunchy golden grass. Clinging onto her bag, she pulled her head up to look at the chameleon sky. It was changing from blue to pink hues. If none of them sped up this process, it would be dark by the time anyone went home.
It only took one step forward for it to click. Three days ago, she had walked aimlessly with the Cube for what seemed like months. But her wandering could still be decoded with a little thinking.
"Chell? Chell?" Sarah's concerned voice called from over near a circle of FBI agents, "are you coming?"
She was too busy thinking to respond. Chell recollected walking straight for a majority of time except for the occasional right turn. With this in mind, she burst off running, holding her bag against herself. Right away she heard the clamor of panic behind her.
"Chell!" cried Sarah.
"WHY WOULD YOU LET HER OUT OF YOUR SIGHT?" the leader of the FBI was obviously enraged by Morrison and Tiller's lack of sense. He sent his entire crew after the runaway girl.
Chell didn't stop sprinting until the last black bulletproof jacket was out of her sight and she couldn't hear yelling any longer. Steadily, she slowed to a stop, surrounded by yellow turf. Glancing around herself, she saw nothing but the grass. She wasn't lost. Yet.
Calmly, she resumed walking straight. She was looking around for landmarks that she passed three days ago, mainly larger rocks. Rather than boulders, she found the gnarled stump of an old, fallen tree. From here, she turned to the right of the stump and kept striding forward, an air of confidence about her.
She walked, and walked, and kept going, until off to the right, the little shed came into view. Relief swept over her. While jogging over to it, she pulled her notebook from her bag and flipped it open to a page. She halted running right before its entrance.
Just as she had assumed, when she looked to the rickety roof she saw a surveillance camera pointed at her. Anxiety dawned on her as she raised the notebook to the camera.
Inside the Aperture Laboratories Enrichment Center
"What is she doing back here? I told her not to come back," GLaDOS's anger was rapidly building up at the sight of her old enemy, "and look, she's even packed on a few more pounds in the few days she was gone."
The panels of her chamber bristled with her boiling rage. From the ends of her wires she sensed Atlas's frustration with a confused P-Body, which was her cue for a snide comment, but she brushed it off, bringing all of her attention to Chell.
Using her "eye", the camera, GLaDOS surveyed Chell's post-imprisonment self. She noted a healthy glow that was never present while she was in the facilities. Of course, it could've just been the speedy weight-gain.
"She can't possibly love testing as much as I do," done with scanning her, she focused the camera's lens on the notebook. It immediately enhanced Chell's barely visible and shaky handwriting.
"What are these scratches on the paper…? Oh. It's her writing. It hasn't improved much, really." GLaDOS read the words just as Chell flipped to the next page that had more writing. This process continued multiple times until Chell shut the book closed and uncertainly stepped back.
GLaDOS turned around to face another area of her spherical chamber, contemplating Chell's plea. Though the girl couldn't hear her from outside, she spoke.
"Fine. I don't need or want humans in here again. All of them have either died a sad, sad death or murdered me," a seething hatred leaked through when she mentioned murder, "I will put my facility back on lockdown to prevent any damage from both of our parties. Now, go."
The camera shifted up and down, nodding at Chell. She returned the nod and began to back away from the hut, wary of a sudden attack that may occur.
"Oh, and take this with you. You might as well have it because I have no use for it. No joking this time, I'm actually giving you a present." The elevator to outside was already halfway through its journey, carrying Chell's gift.
GLaDOS observed as the shack's door spat out the ASHPD the same way it did to the Companion Cube. Chell looked surprised as she walked over to pick up the portal gun. Holding the device, she looked straight into the camera. A wordless, heartfelt, and thankful expression went through the camera and to GLaDOS before Chell took off running again.
The camera followed Chell as she ran, in a direction leading her further from where the FBI and police search-and-destroy team turned Chell's search party were camped. She frolicked through the grass for a moment before starting again with her run for freedom.
GLaDOS scoffed at the woman's peculiar behavior before she was caught off guard by her own voice.
"What is this noise in my head?" she hesitated for a moment, thinking about the sounds, then groaned in realization, "Oh no, my conscience is back…" She shook her head, attempting to get rid of her own voice, but to no avail.
Behind her, the panels opened up to make a hallway. GLaDOS turned her head towards the tunnel, her eye narrowing.
"I said I would never use that trash. Why would I possibly need it now?"
She stared down the dimly lit catwalk, but before she could start moving around more panels to her advantage, she heard P-Body and Atlas's panicked screams from their test course. Irritated, she swung around and repositioned a camera in the test course to focus on the orange testing robot. P-Body was flying through the air, trying to catch a Weighted Cube with the help of Aerial Faith Plates.
"I'm not surprised, Orange. You need work on your aim. A lot. Of work." With Chell now gone for good, GLaDOS recommenced her job of watching over the robot test subjects. Still, her conscience was bothering her about the hallway she had just opened, and what rested at the end of it.
Outer Space, Near the Earth's Moon
Wheatley has been drifting about the moon's surface. He doesn't really have anywhere else to go. The only source of company he had was the Space Core, who wouldn't stop complaining about returning to Earth. He was so annoyed with the insane core that even he, the talkative, so-called-moron core, had shut up and stopped speaking. Choosing to completely ignore his unfortunate companion, Wheatley confined himself to his thoughts.
He was drifting near an Aperture spacecraft on the dark side of the moon when the thoughts of her resurfaced for the umpteenth time. Not that HER, the lifeform that wanted him mounted above a fireplace, but the friend he betrayed. He couldn't get the image of her devastated expression out of his head. She had looked so heartbroken when the elevator to the surface was brought down again. It was his fault that her only chance of escape was ruined. His newfound regret for his past actions as a power-hungry moron was to the point where he bore a small hatred for himself. He wished he wasn't so stupid when it came to actions long gone.
After the elevator ordeal, he never saw her happy again. This saddened him.
The only possible sign of happiness he caught was in their final moments together; Wheatley believed he had saw a hint of satisfaction when the woman had let go of him and left him in space.
Why should he care, Wheatley thought. She never did anything really special for him, right? He didn't even know this human's name. Humans weren't things he was quite fond of because of his days tending to thousands of grumpy, scary-looking ones. Even with this, the overwhelming feelings he possessed towards this girl were intriguing and frightening.
His thinking was abruptly stopped by the Space Core's distant screaming. Enough is enough.
"Bloody idiot, SHUT UP! I KNOW YOU WANT TO GO HOME, TRUST ME I WANT TO ALSO!" He snapped back, his eye shuddered and became pale green as his body flipped around in space.
As he turned over, he figured out why the other core was hysterical. A space shuttle was making its way to the moon. It was a glittering white and bore a familiar logo on its flank.
Wheatley went into frenzy himself, "OVER HERE MATE! I'M OVER HERE! IT'D BE GREAT IF YOU RESCUED ME! Been stranded out here for days, so I could use a hand or a friendly AI or two!"
The shuttle kept its pace towards the moon, heading straight for the stranded core.
"Uh, hello? Can you hear me? I think you're going to hit me! Help a mate out and redirect yourself somewhere else! I don't think either of us want any accidents or damage or deaths!"
The spacecraft didn't budge from the direction it moved, but was obviously slowing down in speed. Wheatley's eye narrowed to give him an annoyed appearance.
"Alright, or not. Suit yourself," the core gruffly sighed, "Fine. No one listens to me. Doesn't mean you shouldn't, though! I've got some good advice to give too! Sometimes – no, what am I saying! I've always given good advice!"
He started wafting away from the moon, suddenly not caring about the encroaching shuttle and staying quiet to focus on whether or not he gives good advice. A short while later, he gave up on the conversation with himself and connected with a bright star.
For a millisecond, he shut his eye, only to rid himself of the white stars for just a moment, and be immersed in complete black. He was beginning to despise the endless space, and wanted to catch glance of the Earth again.
It was then a metal claw plucked him out of space and into the depths of the shuttle. He yelled in sheer horror until a set of doors shut him inside, quieting his screams. Immediately after claiming Wheatley, the rocket re-aimed itself back towards Earth and shot off at lightning speeds.
Only Black Mesa had technology that could hit such incredible speed.
(End Notes: To clear confusion – Wheatley is not yet an android. You'll have to wait for the next chapters to see what happens!
The OCs in this story [aka Chell's extended family] will play a fairly small role in the plot; so don't worry about [this] story drifting off to focus on them or about Mary Sues.
…This chapter is much longer than I initially planned. Oh well.
Thanks for reading!)